Lost in the Shadows
by Erestory
Summary: Bruce still feeling ashamed over poisioning Crane finds him in the street. Now he needs to find a missing brother, discover the painful truth behind Crane's history, and gain friendship on his long path to redemption.
1. Finding Crane

Bruce found him in one of the Narrows alleys dirty and starved, and he still wore the same clothes from a year and a half ago, which were no good in the early November's rain. He thought that Crane would have been killed by one of his crazies that was still free, or maybe even have used the last of his brains to flee Gotham.

"Bastard…bastards…Jackson…" Jonathan whispered quietly as his breath puffs of air in the wind as his body shivered in the midwinter's chill not even noticing Bruce approaching.

"Crane. Crane, can you understand me?" He asked as he leaned over the broken man whose body could almost fit twice into Bruce's.

"Freak…JACKSON …save me…SCARECROW…" '_Crane_' Bruce reached over to touch Jonathan's shoulder but the small man scrambled away landing in a near by puddle, his eyes wide and darting left and right.

"NO!!! Brother!!! PLEASE!!!"

"Sssshhhh, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down, ssshhhh."

Bruce cooed gently as he reached out again only slower. "Come on, let get you out of the rain." It seem like hours before Jonathan let Bruce come near him and even longer to let himself be touched.

"See that wasn't so bad was it?" he asked as he buckled Jonathan into the seat next to him in his sport's car and gently brushed the matted and dirty hair out of his face.

"Jackson…Grandmother please…scarecrow…freak…" Bruce got in his seat and slowly pulled out of the alley and dialed a number on his phone.

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

"Alfred, I'm bringing home a guest. Can you have a warm bath, some soup and clothes ready in about 30 minutes?"

"May I ask who we owe this honor, sir?"

"It's Doctor Crane. He is in Bad shape."

"Are you sure it's wise to bring him here instead of taking him to Arkham?"

"I have no idea Alfred, but I believe he won't survive in Arkham. It will only be for a few days. "

"Be careful Master Bruce. Your request will be here waiting for you."

"Thank you, Alfred. "

Bruce hung up the phone and turned to the man beside him.

"What am I going to do with you, Crane?"

But the only answer he received was the sound of the engine and the whispers of a broken man.

* * *

Crane was like a broken doll with his long lifeless limbs and jerky movements. Bruce slowly peeled off the mans dirty and burned clothing and gave them to Alfred to burn. He lowered the man into the warm bath and gently scrubbed the man skin as Jonathan struggled and cried.

"Please…didn't mean it…I'm sorry….Grandmother…"

Then Bruce slowly clothed and fed him the soup Alfred had prepared and tucked him into the bed of one of the guest bedroom.

"There is nothing I can do for you is there, Crane?"

Bruce whispered and tucked the man's long hand away from his face. Bruce turned to leave but Jonathan grabbed his hand

"please…Jackson…I don't want….to be…alone…"

"Crane, who is Jackson?" "Jackson…brother….bastards…"

"Crane, answer me. Is this Jackson your family? Your brother?"

"Jackson…help me…"

"Crane who is he? Who is Jackson?"

"Please don't leave me alone?" Jonathan whispered before fell into a fitfull sleep

'What have I gotten myself into?' Bruce thought to himself before pulling up a chair to the bed to watch Crane thru the night.


	2. Revelations

When Bruce woke the next morning from a gentle tugging on his shirt it is safe to say he didn't expect to see a pair of ocean, blue eyes staring at him. Never the less the eyes were there.

"Holy mother of-" Bruce pushed the barely 90 pound man away from him and jumped up.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Now Bruce expected many things but Crane reaction wasn't one of them. Jonathan's eyes filled with tears and his full lips started to quiver causing him to feel like two cent.

"Now, there there. I didn't mean to yell at you," Bruce cooed softly "You were just trying to wake me up, weren't you?" But Crane's wouldn't answer and crawled into a ball sobbing quietly.

Bruce slowly reached out but the man-child crawled away '_I'm sorry, really.'_

'_How can someone who was once so powerful, be so broken?_' he wondered before a wave of guilt hit him "_I should now, I caused it_." Just then Bruce found he was drowning in guilt, grief, and shame. Crane was a brilliant man, evil and sadistic, but a brilliant man none the less. Bruce poisoned him, destroyed him, all just to have his revenge, to fill him sense of balance.

Yes, Crane had poisioned him, set him on fire, and then poisioned Rachel but was that a good excuse? He tried to destroy a city but was this man's mind, his sanity the right price? Was this fast corrupting and dying city worth it? Bruce turned his eyes to the man, seeing how small and weak he had become, crouching in into a ball & stared at him with tears pouring down his face and couldn't give himself a answer.

Authors Note:

My readers I must apologies for this isn't my best.


	3. Questions

Questions and Answers

Bruce slowly walked to the broken man and crouched in front of him.

"Easy, easy there." Bruce slowly reached out to him as one would a dangerous animal and just when Bruce's fingers seemed to make contact Crane snapped and bite Bruce's hand.

"What the hell?" He screamed as he ripped his fingers from Crane's mouth. But that was not the end as the mad doctor suddenly tackled Bruce and tried to tear his face off with his teeth.

"Crane, you mad bastard! Get off me!" But his words only made the man more enraged and more violent. Bruce placed a hand around Crane's neck and the other against his chest in hopes of pushing him off only to discover that the old saying was true: The mad ARE strong. The two men rolled over the floor, one trying to destroy the other, while one only wanted to do was survive. Finally Bruce managed to shove his knee into Crane's stomach causing the mad doctor to fly into a pedestal. The pedestal held a vase that was filled with flowers and of course water, which spilled all over the man.

Now Bruce was prepared for many things: Crane attacking him, screaming, flying into a deadly rage but never for him to burst into tears and start running around the bedroom. When he finally founded his voice he tried to stop the child-man and gave chase.

"Now calm down. Don't you want to get out that wet shirt? Please stop, before you trip an-" *CRASH* fall." As if in slow motion Bruce watched Crane trip over a chair, knock into the desk before sliding off and landing on his face. If this was a movie he might have found this amusing and laughed, but this? This was just sad. '_How the mighty have fallen_.' Bruce slowly approached the man and turned him over. Crane had been knocked out and seemed to be in a peaceful sleep. It might even been cute except for the blood stream that ran from the side of his head. '_This is the second time Crane reacted violently against water. What does it stand for?_'

"Jack…don't leave…unforgiven…she will be so mad…25 maniacs."

'_Who is this Jackson? What does unforgiven stand for? Maniacs? I need answers_.' He placed Crane back in his bed, cleaned up wound and headed for the bat cave. He knew Crane hailed from a small town in Georgia but that was all he knew. It took about 30 minutes but he finally found a start, Bruce found Jonathan Crane's birth certificate.


	4. Painful Truth

Is it true?

'_No father? I should have figured, for what man could have done all this, AND had a fatherly figure. Yet again, not all fathers are good examples but how could his life turned out if he had a father? A father like mine? Someone who believed in helping others all the way to the day of his murder? Someone who saw the good in anyone? Could that have made him a better man? Maybe even kept him a sane man? Arkham had already proved he suffered abuse mentally, verbally, and physically. Could a father have prevented all this? Spared him this? Or would the father have joined in with the abuse? Hit him; beat him, starved him or worse? Or would he have stepped back and ignored it? Records say that he was raised by his grandmother, whom have abused him, so where was his mother? Did she die? Runaway? Or did nothing at all? Did the answers to these questions factor to the makings of the mad man in Bruce's spare bedroom?' _

Bruce leaned back in his chair rubbing his crown. So many questions and so little answers wasn't making this any easier on him. But other than keep searching, what could he do? Bruce turned his attention back to the computer and clicked on _Mary Ann_ name. He skimmed the page searching for residence. "_Coliseum Psychiatric Center?" _It took about 10 more minutes of searching before he food a blood-chilling article of Georgia news.

**_Disaster in Arlen_**

"**In the small town of Arlen, a tragedy like never before has taken place that has rocked this small town to it's roots. Sarah Keeny, a young girl of 19, whom has dedicated her life to the lord by serving as a nun has been violently assaulted. On Friday, January 16, Sarah was working in the _Coliseum Psychiatric Center west_ wing, which hosts up to 25 insane men, when she was held up, unbeknownst to the guards, who proceeded to leave and locked up for the weekend.**

**Over the three-day period, poor Sarah suffered at the hands of her insane captives. When the guards returned they found her broken body. Mary-Ann had been beaten and raped many times over the three-day period. She was found barely alive and pregnant. The father is believed to be one of the 25 inmates but due to low funding no pregnant test will take please, leaving the father unknown. Sarah was in such frail condition the doctors believe she will be in _Coliseum Psychiatric Center_ for the rest of her life. It is believed that when her child/children are born he/she/they will be placed immediately in foster care if not with a family member…"**

Bruce pushed away from the computer shaking and pale. "O..._SWEET GOD_!" He leaned over the nearby trashcan and puked out his dinner into the can crying and gasping. On shaking legs, he stumbled up the steps and into the hallway. Bruce tried to make it up to his room but he just couldn't make it, causing him to collapse in the hallway crying.

"Master Bruce? What is wrong, sir?"

But Bruce could not find it in himself to answer and simply continued to cry. He never registered the arms that lifted him up, nor the ones they cared him into his rooms, nor tucked him in. It seemed like hours before Bruce finally managed to get himself together; despite the fact his tears never really stopped flowing.

"Master Bruce, tell me what is wrong."

Finally Bruce finally managed to speak. "It's Crane. O Alfred it's horrible! His mother, HIM! "

"What about mister Crane's mother? What has upset you?"

"Crane mother was a nun, a young 19 year old nun, Alfred…She got locked in part of the asylum by accident...There were 25 inmates...And they raped her…. Over and over again…she got pregnant…Crane and his brother are her children." By the time he finished Bruce was sobbing all over again.

"O Master Bruce. That truly is a tragedy and I weep for her. To be so young and have tragedy ripped thru her life. And mister Crane having to bear that burden, knowing that this is where he came form. I pity them both. But I can feel there are more to your grief then you let on. What it is child?"

"Alfred, Crane grew up with a mother in a asylum, his father could be one of 25 insane men, he was abused his grandmother, bullied by his peers, he was ripped away from his brother. He grew up and turned into a brilliant man and had so much going for him. Then he got mixed up in the _League of Shadows _and turned into this mad doctor. And what did I do after I subdued him? I POISIONED him, Alfred. I destroyed him mind! I KILLED HIM!"

"You had nothing to do with his past sir. It is the doctors, tormentors, and grandmother who are to blame. And last time I checked he was rocking in the room down the hall, alive and humming."

"Crane's mind is like a pot of gold, Alfred. He was so freaking intelligent! He could have done anything, been anything. He received a doctorett at 25! Hes like the seventh wonder of the world. And what did I do, Alfred? I got my revenge, I fulfilled my urge to balance and sprayed him with the toxin. I took his mind; his greatest weapon. Without it he has no life, no hopes, no dreams. His body may be alive but his life is gone. I killed him Alfred. I'm a murderer and there is no way to sugar coat it. He might have taken a bit of me and Rachel's sanity but I took his all. How can anyone defend that? What can anyone even say to that?"

Authors Note: The background is based off of Freddy Kregurs pro-birth and childhood background ONLY! That is all they will share. I own nothing.


	5. An Ocean

Bruce wasn't old. Was he? Near his thirties, yes, but he felt so much older. Like every bone in his body was walking thru the mud with the dinosaurs. Was that a hint of gray in his hair? His steps were slow and labored like an old man coming home from war as he walked down the hall that grew longer and longer with each step. When he finally reached his destination but couldn't find it in himself to enter. He slowly backed away and continued down the hall. Bruce let his feet carry him wherever since his mind and his heart remained with the broken man singing down the hall. He entered the kitchen and sat at the table.

He gazed at the china dishes in the rack and the crystal glasses in the cabinet, and the fine silverware in the sink. His eyes wondered to the silver top counters and glasses and fine wood cabinets that reflected no dust and showed no age. So much riches, so much glamour. Only the best of the best, the most expensive this, the most prized that. Bruce grew up _surrounded_ by riches. Smothered in love. He took so much for granted when he was a child. But that was so long ago. He was just a child then. He believed all children were loved like him. He _knew _that fathers protected their sons, that mothers spoiled their daughters, that everyone was happy. God was he young and innocent.

But his parents murder busted his bubble and he learned that fathers and mothers weren't always there. That sometimes they just didn't care. He learned sometimes they just couldn't provide or like Crane's parents wasn't stable. Bruce grew up a beautiful mansion surrounded by fields and gardens. Crane grew up in an old, run down plantation house. Bruce's clothes always fit and were hand tailored. Crane's clothes were worn and old, and from he learned rarely fit. There was such a distance between them. An ocean it seemed. An ocean of distance, hatred, misunderstanding. It was a distance in class, money, reputation. An ocean as endless as the sky yet as deep as the earth's core. And suddenly Bruce felt to old to cross it.


	6. Uncle Matthew?

Bruce reached out to the door with his left hand and balancing a tray of food in his right. He was prepared for anything; an attack, thrown objects even a meltdown but was only greeted by Crane's age-old song.

"He rocks in the treetop all the day long, hoppin' and a boppin' and a singin' his song. All the little birds on jaybird street love to hear that robin goin' tweet-tweet-tweet…"

'_What the hell?' _Bruce thought as he stared at the man who seen unaware of his presence. Deciding this was as good as it would get he sat next to the mad man.

"Crane. It's time to eat something." But the man paid him little to know attention as he continued to sing his song. Finally Bruce turned Crane's head gently but firmly in his direction and blinding blue eyes meet his. "You have to eat something, understand?" Bruce help up a spoonful of chicken noodle soup and after a moment Crane opened up his mouth. "See? That wasn't so hard was it, Jonathan?" _'Jonathan? Is that what I call him now?'_ Glad he wasn't expecting a reply since he got none Bruce continued to feed the man who been abused not only by people but my life itself.

"Uncle Matthew?"

Growing up as he did and how he did Bruce didn't find it hard to believe Jonathan came out the way he did. Bruce had Alfred to help, support, and guide him after his parent's murder. All thru his life Jonathan had him self and scarecrow. But what about this Jackson? Where were his brother during all of this? Sources say the Grandmother only took in one brother so what happened to the other? Jonathan must have known and grew fond of him at some point if he called to him now.

"Uncle Matthew?"

'_Uncle Matthew!_' Bruce's head snapped to the side so fast he _swore _he had whip-lashed as he stared into child like eyes. "Pardon?"

"Uncle Matthew, when is jack coming home? Brother has been gone so long. "

Bruce was at a lost for words. Jonathan thought _he _was _his uncle_? What-but-

"When will Aunt Ruth and Uncle Mark come back with Jack? They said only for a few days. He has been gone so long now. So long. "

Bruce swallowed past the dry lump in his throat. What could he say behind _that_? Jonathan still looked at him waiting for answer believing it would come. Bruce cleared his throat a couple of times before trying to respond.

"Well, you see Jonathan, Jack is umm well…I don't know. "

There was a pregnant pause. "Jack isn't coming home…is he Uncle Matthew?" Bruce stared into Jonathan's eyes at a lost for word unable to come up with an answer, unable to lie to the broken man before him. And said the only thing he could. "I don't know Jonathan if Jackson is ever coming home. "

Surprisingly Crane didn't go into another fit. Instead he stared at his sock covered foot and allowed a tear to slowly make its way don't his face. "I miss my brother."

Bruce once again at a lost for word merely placed his hand on Jonathan's shoulder as the rest of the soup grew cold on the table before them.


	7. Scarecrow

Darkness and pain. Visions and memories. Memories. So many memories...

**"Filthy worthless bastard! After all I've done for you? You act like this? God curse the day you landed on my door!"**

_"I didn't ask for this…"_

Grandmother? What have I ever done for you to hate me so? Hit hit hit. Screams and screams and screams. I tried to be good.

"**Bastard! Bastard! John is a bastard!"**

_"Please don't call me that…Can't we be friends?"_

The children. I'm just like you. I'm not my fathers. I can only have one. I'm not my mother. Can't you understand? Can't you see?

**You demon! Monster! Bastard of hell! You're a fool to thing the mighty God will ever want you!"**

"_**I'm not a monster, grandma. You said God loves everyone."**_

***Slap Slap Slap* "Are you calling me a liar boy? The servants of God do not lie! Unlike you! Dirty heathen! Child of Satan! Go! Get in the basement and pray to Great God to have mercy on your vile soul."**

"_**Yes, Grandmother." **_

_But god created me. Loved me. . Right?_

Where are you god? Why can't you hear me?

"_**Ugly creature! No one will ever love you!"**_

"_Your wrong! Jack loves me. He'll always love me."_

Jack? Why did you leave me? I need you.

"**Look at the ugly mouse! He is all alone now the other freak is gone!"**

"**He is not a mouse! He is a scrawny little crow!"**

"**Bastard Crow!"**

"**But he is all scared. Crows aren't scared."**

"**Yeah. He is a scary crow."**

"**Scary crow!"**

"**Scary crow!"**

A voice in the dark….

_"Stupid stupid children. One day they'll see. they'll see"_

_"Who are you?"_

_"Me? I am you. I am I. "_

_"Are you going to hurt me?"_

_"No. I am going to protect you. Love you. Keep you."_

_"So you will be my friend? You won't leave me?"_

_"Yes and no."_

_"What is your name?"_

_"**I'm scarecrow."**_

_**Scarecrow. Scarecrow. Scarecrow.**_


	8. No

"SCARECROW!"

Bruce jerked awake as screaming echoed off the walls of the halls and his room. 'What the hell? Scarecrow?' Before he even realized what he was doing Bruce grabbed the sedative on the dresser and sprinted down the hall. He didn't know what to expect but if it concerned Scarecrow he knew it COULDN'T be good.

"SCARECROW!"

He ran faster as the blood-curling scream once again bounced off the walls and fear pulsed thru his veins. Jonathan was doing better since Alfred started mixing his food with his medication. He had constant modes, didn't break a lot of things and mostly stayed in his room playing with toy bears, trains and puzzles he demanded Bruce buy. The only downside was he kept asking after his brother Jackson whom Bruce has yet to find.

Finally Bruce found himself standing in front of Jonathan's room and unlocked it. 'Here we go…' He slowly opened the door and stared at the thrashing man on the bed. He was groaning and sweating and throwing the covers around. Suddenly he stopped and laid completely still like a corpse and Bruce quietly approached him. "Jonathan?" Bruce stared at the man who was paler than humanly possible and appeared to not be breathing at all. "Jonathan?"

"SCARECROW!" Bruce was thrown back as Jonathan suddenly arched upward and kicked him square in the stomach. Before he could stand up a foot stomped down into the middle of his stomach as Jonathan ran over him. "Jonathan!" gasping Bruce rose to his feet at the sound of glass breaking. Running into the hall Bruce saw nobody there and felt a pang of fear. "Jonathan? Jonathan!"

"Not Jonathan, Batman. _Scarecrow_." Bruce whirled around in time to see an ax swing towards his head.

"No."


	9. Sharing is caring

"What is that in your hand?" Quickly snapping out of his thoughts the brunette shoved the picture into his left pocket.

"_It's nothing, babe. Your home early."_

"I'm home at the same time every day. It's not like your gonna let me work any later."

"_5:30? Wow, I haven't had time to make dinner."_

"Maybe because you was staring at that photo. May I see it?"

"_No."_

"Please, babe?"

"_NO! Look it's nothing you need to concern your self with. Just a memory of the past_."

"A memory you can't seem to bury with everything else? Why is that? Unfinished business?"

"_Will you mind your own damn business_?"

"Fine! Fix your own damn problems. "

"_Baby wait, please."_

"What?"

"_I'm sorry. It's just a sensitive topic_."

"Who was it?"

"_Someone I didn't get a chance to say good-bye to."_

"Is he dead?"

"_I don't know. I haven't seen him since I was 8. Can we move on to something else please?"_

"You don't have to hide from me. You know that. Let me see the picture…O my god! Is this you? And this boy looks just like you!"

"..."

"Who was he? Jack?"

"_He was my brother, Leese. His name was Jonathan_."


	10. What do you fear?

"No."

Unaware of his own actions Bruce ducked down and swung his legs out and knocked Scarecrow's feet from under him. Bruce jumps to his knees quickly but not quickly enough to dodge the broad side of the ax which sliced Bruce's chin.

"Oh yes, _Batman_. " Scarecrow said softly as he rose to his feet and swung the ax like a professional killer in a murder movie. "Oh yes, You had this coming a long, long time." He lunged with the ax at Bruce who ducked to the left and then to the right. He kicked him in the thigh but Scarecrow barely flinched.

"Come on _Bat-man_. Dance with me Left, Right and kick. Ha. It's our own little cupid shuffle. "

Bruce ducked down and moved to tackle the man hoping to bring him down. At the last minute Scarecrow jumped to the side and brought the ax up slicing Bruce from his elbow to his shoulder. However the injury wasn't in vain for he managed to grab a chair and bashed it against the wall breaking it off into long thick stick.

"Stop it, Scarecrow. I don't want to hurt you."

"But Batman I really want to hurt you. Just like you hurt my poor, sweet Jonathan."

For being small and under weight the man moved faster than Bruce expected and it was all he could do to raise the stick as the ax came down again. He looked into the eyes of the crazed man before him and felt a chill roll down his spine.

"Fight me, Batman! What are you scared of?" There was a cold and harsh look in his eyes that no man had a right to carry. So distracted by his demonic eyes he failed to notice Scarecrows knee until it landed in his stomach. Gasping for breath he moved back and cried out when the wooden butt of the ax was shoved against into throat causing him to collapse choking. They both failed to notice a figure coming up behind Jonathan.

" What are you scared of? Hopefully not afraid of hurting me?"

"Not you, Scarecrow," Bruce choked out bitterly "Of hurting Jonathan."

"Hurting Jonathan? Bull Shit! You already hurt him remember Bat-face? You sprayed him with his own toxin and left him there to save your courtroom-bitch. Didn't do a lot of good after she meet the Joker."

Scarecrow raised the ax above his head and sneered. "What are you scared off?"

"What are you scared off?" Suddenly Alfred stepped out from the shadows and plunged the syringe into Scarecrow's back. With a screech unknown to human speech he shoved away from the older man and grasping for the item lodged in his back.

Bruce grasped the wall and pulled himself up to his feet only to be frozen by Scarecrow's glare. "I'll be back, Batman. I won't let you hurt Jonathan again." Then Scarecrow collapsed on the ground dropping the ax, the blade still covered with Bruce 's blood.

"I won't let you hurt Jonathan either."


	11. Miami

Jackson woke with a start bathed in sweat and his heart beating rapidly. Not knowing what woke him up Jackson looked around wildly.

"Jack? What is wrong?" Lisa asked as she exited the kitchen a glass of water in her hand.

What is wrong? That was what he would like to know. For years he had these feeling. Moments of thoughts and flashes of emotions he couldn't block no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he saw images of crows, when he was younger he felt minutes of fear and pain, and now confusion, hatred and anger.

"Jackson!"

What were these feelings? What did they keep coming back? And why did he keeping seeing the face of a brother twenty years dead?

"_Jack_." To busy thinking Jackson missed the warning in Lisa's voice but was broken out of his thoughts when she punched him.

"God women! Why did you have to strike me?" He demanded as he fought the urge to go for his favorite place: Lisa's neck.

"Your head seemed to be lost in space. I just showed you the way back to earth."

"By punching me?"

"If need be. Mind telling me what had you so ensnared?"

"You wouldn't understand, Leese."

" How would you know? Jack-"

"_Drop it Lisa_."

"Drop it? _Drop it? _Fine. I will." With that she stormed out and Jackson knew he would have to sleep on the couch tonight.

* * *

Bruce popped another pain- killer as he continued to look thru Georgia adoption records. "Nothing Alfred. There is nothing here showing Jackson being adopted from the age of seven to fifteen. I just don't get it."

Alfred lowered a tray of soup next to Bruce as he looked over the younger man's shoulder. "Is it possible that the adoption took place?"

"Maybe not. It's not necessary in order for the aunt and uncle to have custody."

"From the little we know about the Grandmother she could have simply given him away."

"I don't want to imagine the kind of grandmother that would give away her grandchildren."

"Sarah Keeny have black hair and blue eyes. From what I learned Jackson had brown hair, the hair of his father. Maybe she could no longer stand to see the hair of the man who destroyed her daughter. She couldn't stand such a crude reminder anymore."

"Shouldn't the twins themselves been the cruelest reminder instead of ones hair? They are the result of the crimes against Miss Keeny.

"What ever their reason I can't find nothing. No adoptions, accidents or kidnapping papers. There is no current news of a Jackson in Georgia that matches anything."

"Maybe your are simply looking in the wrong place." And with that Alfred placed a file in front of Bruce and walked away.

Bruce opened the file and looked at the papers in confusion. "Miami? Rippner?"


	12. Old memories

Bruce looked back down at the files on his lap then back to the window as the car drove thru the streets. Miami was a beautiful city but at this time of year it was very crowded and the streets were packed. It seems to take forever to get from the airport to Ms. Riesert's house but he was finally here. "1927 Cherry Hill. I hope she can help me find Rippner." He knocked on the door but received no answer so he knocked again. Just when he was about to leave he heard a faint "Coming!" and was greeted by a beautiful red like-brown women with deep green-hazel eyes and heart shaped lips. She was currently wearing sweat pants and a "Miracle" t-shirt that did nothing to hide her curves. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts.

"Ms. Lisa Riesert?"

"Yes, that's me. What can I do for you?"

"I need to speak with you. I need to find a Jackson Rippner."

Lisa's face paled a bit and her body grew stiff, something Bruce didn't fail to notice. "I..I don't know whom your talking about so it's best you leave. Now." She started to close the door but Bruce stepped closer desperate.

"Ma'am I am not here to hurt you, believe me. I just need to speak to Mr. Rippner. It's about his brother, Jonathon. "

For a minute Lisa eyes darkened and she stepped aside. "Come in, quickly." He stepped inside and started to turn to her when he felt a something hard connect with his head and knew no more.

* * *

Jackson picked up the food and was setting them into the back seat when his phone ringed. When he saw who it was he immediately picked it up "What is it, Lisa?"

"A man came to the door looking to talk to you. He said it was about Jonathan."

Jackson started to feel the old angered and hate rise up, just like when people from the city they grew up in DARED to mention his brother's name. When they dared to mock his intelligence and poke fun at the small things John did. _John._ Grief rose so strongly in him that his knees started to buckle. He missed him, have always missed him since the day his aunt and uncle told him his brother and Grandmother was killed in the fire that destroyed the house and everything with it. Since he realized that he had nothing to remember him by but the eyes and face they shared. A brother who deserved his rest more than anyone Jackson ever knew. Instead of letting the past rest this stranger had the balls to come and bring up memories that was starting to break their way through. 'No, stay where you are. Go back to your rest.' O blood was gonna paint the streets.

"Where is he, Leese?"

"I knocked him out with a vase. I handcuffed him to a chair in the basement."

" Keep watch. I'll be right there. "

"Ok. And Jack?"

"What?"

"You owe me a new vase." **Click**

Jackson chuckled as he got in the driver's seat. "That's my girl."

* * *

With a groan Bruce woke up with a pounding head ache and blurry vision.

"I see your awake, Mr…Wayne." A cold voice that sounded similar said from the room.

Finally able to see Bruce looked towards the door to see a tall, lean figure with dark brown hair and the ice blue eyes he seen on one other man.

"You…your Jackson Rippner."

"That's right. Now I don't know who you know me, Mr. Wayne. Or how you knew to look her at my lady's house. Or know about a brother twenty years dead. But I want you to know this. I will find out." And when he pulled a knife as long as his hand Bruce knew he meant it.


	13. Madness

Bruce took a deep breath as Rippner stood up and walked over to him with the knife gleaming in his hand.

"Mr. Rippner wait. My name is Bruce Wayne. There is really no need for over-reacting-"

"Over-reacting? Did those words really cross your lips?" He leaned over and looked him straight in the eye. "You track me down, come to my lady's house, and have the nerve to ask after my brother who is dead. So if you think this as over reacting then you are a bigger fool then I thought."

"That's the thing. I know Jonathan and hes far from dead. He has some, um, problems but he is alive." Bruce cried out as Jackson ran his knife across his side and he could feel the blood running down his side.

"How DARE you? My brother died in a fire when we were six so don't give me that. Tell me who are you working for and what are you after and I'll make it short and painless." He hissed as he cut Bruce on his other side

"I'm not working for anyone. I'm here because Jonathan needs some help and I believe being with family will help him. I don't know what you heard but I'm telling you the truth. Please let me go."

Jackson thought the man was total crap but when he looked in his eyes and realized that Bruce really believed in what he was saying. He couldn't find a shred of doubt and that unnerved him more than anything else. The fact he actually seem to consider the possibility was even worst. "Lets say if I am stupid enough to believe you. You don't have any proof that what I believed for about twenty years is a lie."

Bruce thought for any minute, glad that Jackson has paused in his slicing when an idea hit him. "You can talk to the people who raised you with your belief and-"

"Can't do that." Jackson said as he cleaned the blood from the knife with a towel before holding it up to the light.

"Why not?"

"They're dead." He said as he studied Bruce as if to figure out how where to cut next

"How they die?"

"I killed them." Silence.

Bruce was speechless as he stared opened mouth at man who was completely calm with what he had done.

A door opened behind him and he heard Lisa's voice. "Hey, Jack dinner's almost ready. Should I wrap it up for you or will you be finished?"

Bruce was shocked. Here he was tied up and bleeding and she was asking Jackson if he was going to be finished in time for dinner? What madness is this? "Go ahead and wrap it up, Leese. I might be here longer than expected."

"Alright." The door closed and he was stuck alone with his torturer again. "Well? I'm waiting for that so called 'proof.'"

"Well, I left the biggest proof in Gotham, so-"

"I am NOT going to Gotham!" Jackson hissed as he cut Bruce a little higher on his torso.

"O, ok Gotham is out. But if you hes dead then he must have a grave. You must have seen it."

"Of course he has a grave." Jackson was obviously getting pissed.

"But have you seen it?" Bruce pressed.

Jackson was about to reply when a thought struck him. He never seen his brother's grave cause his uncle always thought it would keep him from moving on. Which was strange because he never seem to care that much about him at all. "No, I haven't seen it. But that doesn't mean he isn't dead."

"If you go to Georgia I can guarantee that you won't find his grave, where ever he is suppose to be buried."

Jackson seem to consider this before sheathing his blade. "OK, you'll stay here and I'm making a quick flight to Georgia. If it's not there I'll consider letting you go. But if not.," he gave a grin that made Bruce's blood run cold "You will curse the day…."

"..."


	14. baby

Jackson slowly walked up the stairs and entered through the kitchen into the den. Lisa was sitting on the couch wearing one of his old t-shirts and reading one of her silly love novels completely lost to the world. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little worried about leaving her alone but with a brush of his hand against the round scar on his throat, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Jackson walked behind the woman he now considered his equal and slid his hand around her throat and growled with lust when she leaned back into his grasp baring her neck to him. He would have liked nothing more than to tear that shirt off of her and bask in her glory but his mind screamed at him to stay focused.

"I have to take a short trip, leese. I'll be back in no later than three days."

"Is it because of our guest downstairs? Is that why you making the trip?" Jackson walked to the closet and pulled out one of his packed-and-ready-to-go suitcases as Lisa walked up behind him.

"Yes. He pointed something out to me that I have never realized before. I never saw my brother's grave so I'm flying down to Georgia. If there isn't a grave then he has some grounds to stand on."

"And if there is?" Lisa asked fearfully as Jackson slipped one of his knives into the case.

"Then we won't have to deal with him for much longer."

"You'll kill him?"

"Yes."

"Not in my house." She hissed as Jackson turned to her with a coat in his hand

"Take care, leese. I'm calling you tonight." Jackson started to leave when Lisa grabbed his arm suddenly.

"Don't go, Jack. Please."

"I have to. I have to see if he's right or not." He replied as he gently but firmly pulled Lisa off of his arm. She looked as if she wanted to protest more but knowing it would be no use she relented. "Fine but take care. I need you." '_We both do…_' she thought as her mind turned to the month old baby she never told Jackson she was carrying. The baby she so desperately wanted but was so scared to have. "I will. Promise." He leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips and fought the lust that flared in him when she parted her lips and her tongue met his. Pulling back he gave her frustrated look as she giggled and turned and walked out the door.


	15. In the closet

Bruce tried to escape from his bonds for the fifth time in the last hour and once again had respect for the woman that was vacuuming upstairs. Lisa's background showed her as a simple hotel manager but from the knots in his bounds and the pain in Bruce head showed that there was more than meet the eye. Somewhere the door behind him opened up and he heard footsteps coming near causing him to immediately go alert.

"Are you going to hit me again?" Bruce asked as he tried to turn his head to see her. Lisa placed the tray on the desk that Jackson had leaned on a few hours before his departure and turned around.

"Only if I have to," In her hands she held a bottle of alcohol and bandages. "Now lets check on those cuts, huh?" She lifted his shirt and examined his injuries as Bruce studied her.

"So what are you exactly?" "A lady?" "Seriously." "A human being." Lisa replied calmly as she poked at his cut. "I know that. But for Jackson I have serious dou- OUCH!" he tried to squirm away from the merciless disinfect soaked towel as Lisa grew serious.

"Do not talk about my boyfriend like that, understand?" "Understood." Bruce swallowed as Lisa smiled sweetly at him and patted his cheek. "Peachy."

* * *

Jackson stared out the airplane window as the plane landed in the one place he hoped he never set foot again. This place had so many bad memories that Jackson felt sick before he even walked out off the plane. He hated this god-forsaken place and the people who walked these streets and once made him and John's life a living hell. 'I'm only here for you, brother.' He walked out on to the streets and to the nearest hotel as he fought both the heat and memories.

This was still the same place that he left 20 years. Same building, heat, and half - empty streets that always seem to haunt this place. When he entered his hotel room he collapsed on the bed and just stayed there for about half a hour before he reached for his phone. He clicked the first number on the speed dial and waited for Lisa to pick up the phone. "Hello."

"Hey, babe. Is everything alright with our guest?"

"Yeah, everything is fine."

"Good. You remember where everything is? The suitcases, guns, Ids, passports, money an-"

"Yes, Jack! Chill."

"I'm just concerned about you. You know you mean the world to me." "I know. But I do want to know is when your going to tell me you love me."

Jackson couldn't find the words to speak so he stayed silent and finally Lisa gave in. "Never mind. I got to call my father. Bye Jack."

A moment of silence before he replied to her, "Take care Leese." Jackson put the phone down and signed. He hated when she brought up the L-word. Lisa probably thinks he just possessive over her and Jackson would be the last one to say he wasn't. But it was more than that. Jackson loved Lisa with all his heart, he loved her with everything that made him, Jackson. He just couldn't show, couldn't show that. While he was growing up he never saw his uncle Mark show aunt Ruth any type of love and affection but instead with annoyance and indulged her to shut her up. The fights and arguments were legendary and he always found himself caught in the middle and now he had way to many skeletons in his closet trying to break free. That wasn't the life he was going to have with Lisa or the home he would wish to bring a child up in so until he could change it he would keep her at bay, if only for a little while. "_I will have a good life with Lisa and we'll have many children. But first, by god I have to walk out that door._" And he did.


	16. Jackie

Bruce once again tried to untie himself and once again he gained respect for the women who tied him. _'And she searched and took my weapons!' _Bruce was pulled from his angry thoughts when he heard a door open up behind him and he tried to turn his head.

"Dinner time. I hope you like Chinese food."

'_Maybe I can get her guard down' _"I love it, thanks. But can you not expect me to eat with no hands?"

"Yes, but I will feed you. Don't want any funny business do we?"

"That would surely damage my pride." Bruce replied laying on his most charming smile hoping it will work.

"I have a feeling you need your head deflated, so deal with it and open you!"

Resigning to his fate, Bruce allowed himself to be fed.

* * *

Jackson walked down the street fighting back the memories that were more dark and painful than anyone can imagine. He was turning a corner when a slightly familiar voice called his name. He turned around and wished he hasn't because the two people, who stood before him, were the ones he wished to never see again.

The tall, anorexic fake Blondie in sluttish clothes was Kendall Craven and the fat drunk who look like he never seen better days was James Scott. The want to-be cheerleader and want to-be captain.

"See Jim-baby! I told you it was him, little Jackie has decided to come back and grace us with his presence." Kendall gave him a fake smile showing off her bad teeth making Jackson wince as the other man nearly glared at him.

"You should have stayed away. Don't need freaks like you polluting this decent town."

Jackson immediately felt his temper rise. "Yeah a decent town full of whores, drunks, and white trash."

Kendall glared at him in anger. "O you think you're so much better this us, showing up in you're…"

"What? Expensive suit, thousand dollar coat, shoes that cost more than your entire house? Yes, I am so much better. I make more on one assignment than you do in an entire year. And to think _you _one called me trash." Jackson decided to walk away before he pulled out his knife and went to work.

"Why you filthy freak!" Jackson felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and snapped. He whipped around and punched his once tormentor straight in the nose instantly breaking his nose, knocking out his teeth and causing the drunk to lose consciousness.

"Stop. Don't kill him, you monster!"

Kendall screamed as she went to the side of her friend? Lover? Pimp?

Already pissed with him self he turned around and continue walking to the local cemetery wiping his bloody hand on a handkerchief.

'_Calm down, Jack. You don't want to end up in jail. You need to finish up here, get back to Lisa and get back to your life.'_

Jackson wiped the sweat from his face and looked upon the gate that he once believed led to his brother's final destination.


	17. Alfred

Alfred wasn't a young man, haven't been for a long time but it was time's like these where he really felt his age. He could remember when he first start working here when he was seventeen. He was born in 1940 and as far back as he could remember his family struggled to survive and Alfred left home at 17. Alfred was young, fresh out of luck, and Arizona was still reeling from the effects of the great depression. At that time he had no experience, no worth background to fall back on and was slowly starving to death from the low wages he received at the factory. Desperate, he turned to crime to survive and tried to pickpocket a elder Christopher Wayne, Bruce's grandfather. The man was quicker than he looked and had caught him in the act and forever sealing Alfred's fate.

Instead of having him hauled off to jail the man was impressed at his grit he offered him a job he couldn't refuse. God, you could have knocked Alfred over with a father. He always thought of the job as temporary and when another job positioned opened somewhere else he couldn't find it in himself to leave and nobody asked him to. He worked in the house and went from servant to personal butler and best friend to Thomas Wayne to the head man (under Master Wayne of course.) He help welcome Martha into the Wayne family, and quietly mourned Master Christopher death. He comforted Mrs. Wayne through her pregnancy, help take care of Bruce when he was born and a child. Alfred tried not to cry at the funeral of his friends and fulfilled their wishes about the future of Master Bruce as close to the letter as he could. He was there when Chill's appeal came up and worried or him during the ten years he was gone. Alfred's heart rejoiced when he came back and was more that concerned about the man's sanity when he came up with the idea of batman but he couldn't feel more proud.

Now Alfred did not know what to feel about the man who sat in the living room watching Sesame Street. At first he respected the man even if something was off about him. It felt like a hidden darkness was covering him, some years old hatred was controlling him, making wise people cautious. At this point he believes he feels nothing but pity for this man and sad for so much talent wasted. Alfred quietly walked over to Crane and put his lunch next to him, carefully watching for the other's man reaction. Every since Bruce left for Miami, Jonathan adopted a child-like behavior and was very easy to please. Eyes still glued to the TV screen he picked up a sandwich and nibbled on it, like that of a chipmunk. Alfred walked back to the doorway, glanced back at the man and walked away use to the feeling of pity.


	18. My way

Jackson never met a graveyard he liked, never had a reason to visit one other than to make sure that the bastards that 'raised' him were dead. Never would he have thought he would be in this one to see if his twin was truely dead. If Jonathan haven't died shouldn't Jackson have known? What was said about a connection between twins? Is that were those strange bouts of emotion came from? Jackson doubted he would feel them if they came from beyond the grave. He looked around the ancient graveyard and shook down a chill trying to climb up his spine. This place was empty and as quiet as a newly dug tomb and the weather above the graveyard was oddly cloudy despite it being clear elsewhere. Having no idea where the tombs were he decided to visit the ground keepers office.

It was a small, old and didn't give one the image that it has seen better days. When Jackson opened the door it screeched and the smell of musk and fake perfume filled the air. There was dust everywhere and the wondows were foggy and the furniture (the few pieces there) were moth eaten. 'What a piece of shit!' Jackson thought disgusted as he approached the desk. Trying not to touch anything else he rang the bell on the desk and waited. And waited. Then waited some more. Angerily he tapped the bell again and was ready to walk out except he heard a shuffling noice and slow footsteps. After ten forevers a man as old as the ground Jackson walked on came into the room. He had no hair, thick glasses that made his brown eyes look huge, had as many rinkles as Lisa had shoes, and wore a plaid shirt and overalls.

"What can I do for you, young man?" the old man asked in his slow and raspy voice.

"I need to find a grave." Jackson replied as he watched a daddy-long-legs crawl toward his shoe.

"Don't we all?" the elder joked before growing serious again. "The name and year please. "

"Jonathan Crane. 1990."

The old man pulled out a dusty book labeled "Records" and begun slowly searching for the name while Jackson continued to track the long-legs. After a while the old man looked up at Jackson. "Sorry there is no Jonathan Crane for that year."

Jackson felt his stomach drop. "What do you mean? Check again, he was buried next to a Mary-Ann Crane."

"Mary-Ann Crane?" the old man blinked confused. "Wait a second, son." The grave-keeper flipped through the pages before landing and scanning the page. "Ah yes, Mrs. Crane died eleven years ago. Heart attack if I remember correctly. Sad to see a pillar of the community go."

Suddenly feeling dizzy and not because of the heat Jackson held onto the counter the bug long forgotten. The old man was lying! He had to be. Desperate he snatched the book and searched the page until he found it. "Mary-Ann Crane. April 29, 2001. Plot 107b." Dropping the book Jackson left the building ignoring the old mans questions.

"There has to be some mistake. Why would they have lied to me? Why seperate us? God, if its true! his brother would have been on his own in this god-cursed town where hatred and fear was the only affection they ever known. He was suddenly washed with two emotions: sadness and rage. Without thinking he punched the closes thing to him: a tree. Cursing and in pain Jackson wiggled his fingers relieved that nothing was broken.

"If he did live here he would have went to the high school here (and he cringed at the thought) they would have him on file. Hoping his memory served him right Jackson headed towards the direction of the high school.

* * *

Bruce quicly finished off the water bottle Lisa was holding towards his mouth. She collected the rest of the dishes on the tray and started to head up the stairs. He could no longer hold his bladder and was more than embarrased he had to plea.

"I have to go."

Lisa looked back at him. "To the bathroom. Please Lisa. I have to go." She held up the bottle he just drained. "Best I can do."

"Look, I promise no tricks. Chain my hand to my head I don't care. But I got to go." Lisa stared at him for a while before walking upstairs. "Lisa please!" Bruce begged (yes, he was begging. the mighty have fallen.) Just when all hope seem lost she came back.

"Fine," Bruce looked up smiling but it quickly faded when he saw the 9mm she held firmly in her hand. "But we are doing it my way."


	19. Lesson

_'Lesson of the day: It's hard to piss when there is a gun at your back and a women who looks like she is ready to use it._' Bruce thought as he put himself away and turn to wash his hands. This is not how he thought things would go when he got on the plane to Miami to track down Jonathan's twin but he decided it's better to make the most of his situation than ponder on how he got there. Turning he looked at his captor's wife/girlfriend/lover and once again decided she was a beauty. Curly chestnut hair, dazzling hazel eyes, kissable lips, clear skin, curvy body and the way she carried her self was warm and inviting yet strong and fierce.

"Will you stop staring at me?" said beauty replied as she cocked the gun. Did he mension deadly?

"Sorry," Bruce replied as he raised his hands in surrender "Just admiring true beauty."

"Well you can admire it from your chair. Move it, mister."

Signing Bruce headed back to his chair and wondered how Alfred was fairing back home.

* * *

"1991...2000...2001..." Jackson lifted the dusty book from the shelf and quickly skipped to the senior's section. He skipped the A's, B's, and most of the C's until he reached the only 'cr' in the class. Above the name was the picture of a face he would know more than anyone else (besides his Lisa). The hair was black and he wore glasses but the face was still the same. Their face. It has been almost 20 years since he last seen his face and it caused Jacksons throat to tighten. He closed his eyes and let the waves of pain, saddness, anger and most of all joy wash over him. He's alive.

His body started to tremble with emotions as he started to gasp. All these years because of some sick bastards twisted desire. Jackson hated the fact those who should have protected and loved them were the ones that hurt them the most. He hated that they were already dead and they should be glad their dead cause god help them if they still lived. Jackson opened his eyes to look at the picture only to see his vision blurry form bittersweet tears. Tears? It has been a long time since Jackson Rippner cried. But what did he care? His brother was still alive and he was determined to bring him home.

* * *

In a mansion thousands of miles away a man turned his head to the north with a smile and cried.


	20. Call her mine

Lisa made sure the house was locked and security on before going to her car and driving to the doctor's office. She was more than nervous since it was her first pregnancy and she was going to her doctor alone. Lisa knew that in a normal circumstance Jackson would be right beside her, holding her hand and being the strong one. But he wasn't so Lisa was going to have to make due with the white chocolate pretzels and American cheese. At lease the morning sickness wasn't as she expected and her sexual appetite was high so she really missed Jackson and it made her sick to even think about getting satisfaction somewhere else. She loved him more than anything, always felt a connection to him even during 'the flight.'

Her father couldn't understand why she loved him when he reminded her that Jack tried to kill her and Lisa replied "No ones perfect." to Lisa truer words were never spoken but they were nearly perfect for each other. She brought out the humanity in Jackson and in return he brought Lisa out of her shell. She knows that the innocent, carefree young one is gone forever because of the rape but she Jack has healed her, loved her and toughened her up. Now when she looks into the mirror she is happy to see her self again. Lisa was also happy when Jack found the man who hurt her and made sure the bastard wouldn't hurt anyone else again. He pushed and pulled till she pushed and pulled back and in return found love she never expected to find. He didn't look the romantic type but Jackson was mushy on the inside always writing her some of the most touching poems. Just thinking about her favorite one caused Lisa to smile as she switched lanes.

_A wise man one said "Mortals do not walk among the gods." But I walk with one everyday._  
_Another man said "Better to have love and lost that never to love at all." I know I would rather not live without the love inside me._  
_I once heard "A man's heart can only take so much." But the sight of her makes my heart grow ten times bigger each day._  
_People can be described as having a heart of gold, but I know gold was made by her heart._  
_I heard eyes are windows to the soul, but no window is big enough to catch a peek at hers._  
_i would live the rest of my life to please her but it will never be enough. But-_  
_It is enough I may but call her mine._

Warmth washed over him as she turned into the clinic's parking lot and and exited the car. Even though she was no longer scared of the parking lot she was still wary and figured the knife she kept in the sleeve of her coat. Taking a deep breathe Lisa got out the car and headed inside for her appointment. After checking in she sat one of the uncomfortable seats and checked her phone hoping for a text but finding none. 'He could at least text me' Almost immediately she had a taste for a white chocolate pretzel covered in melted American cheese with a side of grape juice. So lost in thought the nurse called Lisa's name twice before she answered.


	21. Love and Hate

Jackson stared out the window as his plane entered Florida and the pilot announced another 30 minutes before it reached the Miami airport and he was more than eager to see his Lisa again and wrap his arms around her. It still amused him to think he once wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and choke her as payback for all the hell she caused. There truly was a thin line between love and hate and he crossed it happily to reach the happiness that waited them. Soon he would be on bended knee in some romantic settings and putting his heart and life in her hands. Despite all the death and destruction he once created hes willingly spend eternity in her arms as their little tykes destroyed the house around them.

As much as he loved the idea of a blissful life with his lady he still had unfinished business to take care off. His brother, his twin was alive and well. After all these years of being separated, of believing he was dead , and suffering from loneliness it was all for not. Jackson's blood began to boil and he never felt so eager for a knife and body before as he cursed them all. His grandmother from hell, his aunt and uncle who ripped him away and made his life miserable. He would have carved vengeance into their hearts, painted blood in their souls, and misery in their minds. Who gave them the right? He and Jonathan stood by each other when no one stood up for them and and they damned the town for their hatred. They never had to question the cause of their grief because they always knew the truth of their bloodstained parentage. Before they turned three they learned to hate her, the bitch, the monster, their grandmother the sadistic church-parader. He could have easily exposed her unchristian behavior cause he had scars that were proof of her hatred and cruelty and then she let those heartless bastards take him and further destroy his future. Killing them was the best thing he did besides asking Lisa on their first date.

But thats all in the past now, John was alive and the only thing standing in the way was Bruce Wayne but he wasn't a cause for concern. He draw the answer out of him if he had to use every trick in the book.

* * *

Jonathan Crane shook as he was hit with foreign bloodlust and Scarecrow roared with hunger for fear and pain. The door opened and he turned to the man in the doorway who has come to check on him but he was to late because Jonathan was lost. He felt his legs bending as his body started to crouch, hands turning to feather and claws, skin stretching, and his ears was filled with the sound of a thousand wings flapping and disturbing the air, and a screech rising from his throat. He left the ground as a man and hit the ground as Scarecrow.


	22. Rice

Bruce cursed for the fouth time that day as he relocated his wrist back into place. Despite how he felt about the League of Shadows, he was grateful for the lessons they taught despite how painful. Finally free of his bonds he glanced up the stairs where he could hear the lady of the house cooking. _'There is no way this isn't going to turn into a fight,'_ Bruce thought _'Is he even worth it?' _Almost immediately guilt washed over him in a tidal wave. How could he even think that? It was his fault that Jonathan was in his position- no it was THEIR fault. It was the fault of the guards who didn't check to make sure everyone was out, the nuns who either didn't notice or say anything, those sick and cruel inmates at the hospital, the sadistic grandmother, the aunt and uncle who took Jackson away, the league of shadows who recruited him, and finally Bruce himself. _'With so many people who did him wrong, no wonder the tormended became th tormentor...' _he thought as he slowly made his way up the steps because Bruce knew if he was to right this wrong he had to face the lady standing in his way.

* * *

Jackson signed at the slow passengers making their way off the plane before grabbing his suitcase. He was determined to get home, check on Lisa and make Wayne spill everything, his blood if neccessary. He won't deny he was not happy about leaving Lisa alone but Jackson knew Lisa could take just about anything. Smiling at the thought of her, Jackson fingered the ring in his pocket that he took everywhere. Soon the world would know Lisa was his and Jackson would have his brother back. Lightly sprinting outside and advoiding kids and old people alike he hailed the first taxi he saw and hopped in.

* * *

Lisa stirred the pot of boiling water with rice with one hand and rubbed her belly with the other._ 'Twins. I'm having twins. How am I going to tell my father? How am I going to tell Jack?' _so busy in her thoughts Lisa didnt notice a door opening behind her. _'What if he doesn't want kids? What if he only wanted a temperary fling? Would he leave me? But surely, jackson would stick around for the sake of the kids, right? But Jack wouldn't just leave! He cares about me!' 'Does he?' _a voice at the back of her mind whispered _'Yes, he does! We wouldn't still be here other wise! Jack never stick around things he doesn't like...' _"Your burning your rice." Startled Lisa grabbed the pot and without thinking twice she threw it's contents at the man in the door way.


End file.
